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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23792644">Broken Bird</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vandereer/pseuds/Vandereer'>Vandereer</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>One Piece</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canonical Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, I'm saying Shanks gets nutted in okay, M/M, Mild Blood, Outdoor Sex, Overstimulation, Porn with Feelings, References to Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, angry ANGRY BIRD, it is what it is, slightly unsafe sex but dont worry about it, you guys dont know how much i loathe the tag anal creampie but yknow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 22:35:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,678</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23792644</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vandereer/pseuds/Vandereer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A couple of months after the payback war, Shanks seeks out the former 1st division commander of the Whitebeard pirates.<br/>But he doesn’t find him. Instead, he finds a shell of a man trying to kill himself with cheap sake.<br/>No one is left to help Marco, but Shanks figures he’s better than nothing...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Akagami no Shanks | Red-Haired Shanks/Fushichou Marco | Phoenix Marco</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>106</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Sentimental storm clouds</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/TricksterMel/gifts">TricksterMel</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Aka 'Marco has a god-given right to be a mess for a while and Shanks is here to kiss it better'. This fic is for Melanie who got me on the ShanksMarco train TOOT TOOT! I basically told her some day I'm going to grow appreciation for Marco and it's going to be her fault!!<br/>Rating may increase with future chapters with possible sexy stuff.<br/>This was written almost completely while listening to Poor Isaac by The Airborne Toxic Event because it slaps, check it out.<br/>edit: as of chapter 3 this is definitely getting upgraded to explicit lmao</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Shanks’ breath huffed out of him as he ascended the hill, up to where Whitebeard watched over the world from his grave. It had been a year since Shanks had came to Marineford to order the ceasefire, and yet the images still occasionally came back to haunt him. The peaceful hillside was a far cry from the gunpowder smoke and chaos, the thick sense of death and heartache that pervaded the air at Marineford. A choppy wind buffeted Shanks as he rested to catch his breath. The summer island was usually sunny and clear, with a perfect breeze to take off the edge of the heat, instead the sky was the colour of a pile of wet towels and the fast-moving clouds swollen with rain.</p><p>Shanks felt a faint sense of relief when he caught sight of the man he came to Sphinx seeking out. In the shadow of Whitebeard’s grave, he could see a tattered purple shirt fluttering about, and a small puff of blonde hair. </p><p> </p><p>He looked like he had been sat at the grave site for some time, wind-weathered and sunburned like he had become part of the environment. </p><p>As Shanks crested the top of the hill, a few birds startled and fluttered away. </p><p>Marco sat so still that Shanks wondered if he had just passed out or died sitting in that same spot, but he turned with a reproachful glare at the sound of Shanks’ sandals brushing through the grass. </p><p>Shanks winced at the sight of a wild beard sprouting from Marco's jawline. The effect was rather hideous, like a pineapple that sprouted a load of mold. His hooded eyes burned into Shanks face and his full lips turned down in a grimace. </p><p>As Shanks got closer, he could see a tiny bundle of blue feathers in Marco’s hands, a little bird cheeped as he gently caressed it with a finger. </p><p>"Cute bird." Shanks said brightly. "He got a name?" </p><p>"Periwinkle." Marco gruffed, voice low and raw like he hadn't spoken in weeks. "And he's a 'she', yoi."</p><p>"How can you tell?" </p><p>The bird jerked out of Marco's hands and flapped away hurriedly, spooked by Shanks' presence. Marco scowled at the trail of puffy white feathers the bird left in her wake, and watched the feathers fall slowly to the ground. "What are you doing here?"</p><p>"I heard about- about your crew.” Shanks said. “The papers are calling it the 'Payback War'. They said you disappeared too, but I figured I’d find you here."</p><p>Marco huffed. "War? It wasn't a war. It was a slaughter. We didn't stand a chance.”</p><p>He grabbed a bottle from his side and took a huge quaff, the clear liquid spilling messily down his beard.</p><p>Shanks kept a concerted effort to keep his mouth <em> shut. </em> He burned with curiosity over what had happened to the remnants of Whitebeard’s crew, but the fact that Marco was sitting there, getting piss-drunk in the middle of the day spoke for itself. The other commanders were probably all dead, or mostly just scattered to the winds. Even though Marco’s powers kept him out of harm’s way for the most part, Shanks couldn’t help but notice old blood stains on his usually colourful shirt.</p><p>“Have you been up here ever since?” Shanks said, wondering more specifically if he’d even <em> changed his shirt </em> since that day.</p><p>“The fuck does it matter t’you?” Marco gruffed, taking another long swig from his bottle.</p><p>“Because I know what loss is like, what it can do to people.”</p><p>Marco staggered to his feet and lurched towards him, his breath stinking of booze.</p><p>"Oh, you do huh?! You have everything <em> you </em> want!”</p><p>Shanks scowled. "Don't test me, Marco! I watched my own captain die, the same as yours! The hardest damn part of losing everything is starting again." </p><p>And by god, Marco <em> had </em>lost everything. He had been brought down lower than any man should, and then a second time just when he had started the healing process. </p><p>Shanks <em> understood, </em> his heart broke for the man. But that didn't mean he wasn't getting on his last goddamn nerve about now. </p><p>“Pops left me in charge…” Marco continued, shaking his head so hard he looked about to fall over. “An’ the first thing I did was destroy the rest of what he worked so hard to build up. What the <em> fuck </em> makes you think you understand, huh?!” <br/>"So what, you're going to sit here drinking yourself to death? You think that's what Whitebeard would've wanted for you?" </p><p>Marco threw his half-empty bottle at Shanks’ feet, where it hit a rock hidden in the grass and exploded all over his legs. Shanks narrowed his eyes, the Marco he knew wouldn’t make a mess of Whitebeard and Ace’s gravesite like this, not unless he was seriously out of control.</p><p>“Marco. I’m only going to say this once. Calm down, come back to the village and get yourself sobered up.”</p><p>“<em>Calm down, sober up! </em>” Marco repeated, mockingly. “You think I want to be fucking sober right now?!”</p><p>“I know you don’t! But-”</p><p>“FUCK YOU! GET THE FUCKING HELL AWAY FROM ME!”</p><p>Shanks reached out, trying to touch his shoulder, which turned out to be a mistake as Marco started glowing blue. His arms turned into fiery wings, flapping wildly and sending embers dancing over the grass. Smoke filled Shanks' nostrils as the grass scorched around Marco's feet. </p><p>"I think you should get the fuck out of here, Red-Hair!”</p><p>"Hey now, we can settle this somewhere else!" Shanks said quickly. He glanced at the flowers that surrounded the graves, getting scorched and burned by Marco’s flames. He was losing control, and Shanks knew it. Ace's hat and knife rattled, and Whitebeard’s cloak fluttered in the waves of heat rising. </p><p>"I SAID, GO!" Marco screamed, as he turned into the embodiment of fire and rage - pure blue screeching <em> fury </em>. The phoenix towered over Shanks, roaring and white-eyed. The elegant blue neck curved until Marco's beak was inches from Shanks' face. </p><p>"<b><em>LEAVE!" </em> </b></p><p>The force of Marco’s voice, mingled with birdlike screeching, just about blew Shanks’ eardrums out. A burst of flames followed it, just barely missing his head as he ducked, but the wave of heat that followed it almost knocked him down.</p><p> </p><p>Shanks let out a hiss of irritation from between his teeth as he waited for his ears to stop ringing. He'd just about had enough. </p><p>"Marco!" Shanks called. "Stop this, before you end up doing something you regret!" </p><p>Marco wasn't listening, Marco wasn't Marco anymore, just a vague swirling mass of grief and destruction. </p><p>"Don't say I didn't warn you…" Shanks muttered as he pulled his sword free and imbued it with Haki. He raised it just in time, a stabbing blow from the bird's beak came down. The impact would have broken his ribs had Shanks’ Haki not caught it. </p><p>Shanks danced backwards as huge talons came down, tearing up clumps of grass. His intention was to draw Marco away from doing any damage to the gravestones, the very ones he had calmly thanked Shanks for setting up just over a year ago. Or at least he had looked calm, maybe he had just numbed himself to the pain. </p><p>Shanks cried out as the rapid blows of beak and claw kept coming, too random for him to really keep track of. Hot claws raked across the stump of his arm and tore across his hairline. The fact that Marco was drunk as a skunk and not thinking clearly forced Shanks to hold back. He couldn’t help but think how easily he could kill or at least seriously injure Marco in this state. </p><p>Shanks swung back, just to force Marco to stop his wild flurry of claws, but the bird flapped out of his range. He soared high up into the air and dipped a little in the gale that was rising around him. Shanks knew that he was going to fall into a dive before Marco did. The poor old bird had lost it - he definitely knew how out of his depth he was and yet he planned on attacking anyway. Even if Shanks had to kill him to stop him. </p><p>Marco fell out of the sky with another deafening screech, claws outstretched and glinting like daggers. </p><p>Shanks slid his sword back into the sheath at his hip. He met Marco in the air, leaping with an outstretched hand. With his hand firmly around Marcos's throat he twisted in midair and brought the bird down under him.</p><p>Marco lay squawking and gasping for breath under his haki-infused grip, until he gradually changed from beast back into man. Tears sprang in Marco's eyes as he struggled in a pile of dirt, his talon-legs scoring deep into the ground he had torn up earlier. Shanks winced as a flailing talon reared up at his side and dug long gouges into his hip.</p><p> </p><p>A blast of flames made Shanks fall back, but the effort seemed to exhaust Marco. </p><p>"Say, you've been drinking for a few days in a row?" Shanks asked, panting. "You eaten anything with all that booze?" </p><p>"The fuck does it matter to you?" Marco said, swaying. His wing-arms still raised and coated in flames. </p><p>"It doesn't, really. Except… you're looking pretty pale there." </p><p>
  <em> "Fuck you, Red-Hair!"  </em>
</p><p>Marco stepped forward again, but at that point he was struggling to even raise his wings. </p><p>Marco's eyes rolled back in his head and his knees went slack underneath him. He thumped onto his face in a patch of burnt grass. </p><p>Shanks couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief, that at least he hadn't had to knock the guy out himself.</p><p> </p><p>Marco almost weighed nothing as Shanks threw him over his shoulder, and stank like a pile of burning alcohol-soaked garbage </p><p>Before he turned to leave, Shanks flicked his gaze over the gravestones, to make sure nothing was out of place. Luckily Marco's flames had only licked at the most recent offering of flowers and snacks. </p><p>"Sorry Ace, old man. I'll bring you some sake to make up for the disturbance. Marco didn't mean anything by it." </p><p>The choppy wind started to die down, until hat and cloak were back to waving gently in the breeze. Shanks sighed. “I hope you’re both watching over him... He needs it.”</p><p> </p><p>Shanks descended the hill with Marco’s head lolling over his shoulder. He had to hold his breath most of the way, Marco <em> reeked </em> of booze. Probably replaced half his blood with it after a solid couple months of drinking. </p><p>Shanks’ crew were waiting for him when he got to the little village.</p><p>"Hey, Beckman!” Shanks called out. “Get everyone settled down for some shore leave. We might be here a while." </p><p>His greying first mate smiled over his cigar and quirked an eyebrow at Marco's rump. </p><p>"He need a doctor?"</p><p>"Probably, but more importantly, some good food and somewhere to sleep off a hell of a hangover."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Grief's got you by the lungs</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Marco wakes up to confront what an utter cock he made of himself, and Shanks is being far too nice.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>woops it’s been a month and I ain’t uploaded jack shit. If I teased you with the first chapter of this i’m soRRY. *hands you all a cake with ‘sorry i was busy being mentally ill’ scribbled on it in pepto bismol pink font*<br/>I have like 3 million other projects to neglect but I still love shanksmarco a whole lot okokok please enjoy.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Good morning, sunshine!”</p><p>Marco’s eyes opened in a shower of crust, his mouth tasting like a pigeon had been roosting in it all night. He scowled at the man sat in a chair beside his bed, smiling in a slightly forced way.</p><p><em> Oh god, what the hell is </em> he <em> doing here? </em>Marco thought with a grimace. Shanks’ cheerful face was somewhere in the bottom ranking of people he wanted (or expected) to see.</p><p>“You don’t remember yesterday, I’m guessing?” Shanks said.</p><p>Marco groaned and clutched at his forehead, shaking his head 'no'. He had a vague recollection of intense anger, stumbling around and yelling, maybe flying. But other than that? Nothing, and somehow he felt that was for the best. </p><p>“Water.” Marco croaked. Shanks was at his side immediately, offering him a full glass that he frantically gulped down. He shook the glass to free the last few drops from the bottom, in a frantic attempt to soothe his dry tongue. Shanks soon prised the glass out of his hands to go and fill it up again. He had to move aside a collection of dishes that had been accumulating there for the past month.</p><p>"We were at the grave site, you uh, you kind of tore up the place." Shanks continued as he filled the glass up from the sink. </p><p>Shock and regret flashed across Marco's features. "Did I-" </p><p>"You didn't do any lasting damage." Shanks said quickly. "Just tore up the grass a bit."</p><p>"But I <em> could have! </em> God… What the hell is <em> wrong </em> with me?" </p><p>"You need help, and it sounds like you need a friend."</p><p>Marco snorted with derision. "And <em> you're </em> offering? We're not friends, we're <em> barely </em>allies… Why are you even here?!" </p><p>"Beats me." Shanks said with a little smile. "I guess I was a little worried about you, I wanted to make sure you we getting along okay.”</p><p>Marco looked at him through narrowed, bloodshot eyes. "What are you talking about, you <em> hate </em>me!" </p><p>"I dunno what gave you that idea. Just because we were from rival pirate crews, doesn't mean I held any animosity towards you." Shanks snickered and added. "Sure is fun windin' you up though!" </p><p>Marco muttered a weak ‘yoi…’ and drained the glass again. Shanks took it to the sink, repeating the process until Marco’s heart stopped hammering so badly. His mouth gradually stopped feeling so dry, but the process of sobering up brought with it a swathe of things that he didn’t want to think about.</p><p>"I guess it's easy to hate someone, and figure that they must hate you back, huh?" Shanks said.</p><p>Marco groaned in response and lay back down. His head still throbbed, with a hollow ache in his stomach. He hadn’t eaten in so long. Alcohol tended to hit harder on an empty stomach, which is just what he wanted.</p><p>"Come and have something to eat with us later, we brought enough food for the whole village and then some!" Shanks continued.</p><p>Marco groaned and waved him away, the thought of food was completely overwhelming. He knew he'd probably just throw whatever he ate back up. Shanks' perky voice was starting to get thoroughly on his nerves. He shut his eyes, then heard footsteps clomping away over the floorboards. </p><p>After a while, a cool, damp cloth draped over Marco’s forehead. A broad hand pressed it down firmly, and Marco sighed as the throbbing in his head lessened, just enough to ease him off into sleep.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Marco felt considerably better when he woke up again, but as he had started from skirting the edges of extreme dehydration and starvation ... that wasn’t saying a whole lot. He resisted the urge to grab a bottle of sake as soon as he woke up, then stepped through the door to his cabin.</p><p>Dusk had sunk low over the little village, making Marco wonder just how long he had been out. The entire population of the town seemed to be out, gathered around a roaring fire set in the town square. Children ran around Marco's feet giggling as he stepped towards Shanks.</p><p>"Hey, the phoenix rises, at last!" Shanks called out with a grin.</p><p>Marco barked out a fake laugh. "Haven't heard that one before, yoi."</p><p>"Come on, don’t be grouchy! What d'you want? We got sea king meat, a little hair of the dog-" Shanks waggled his eyebrows and waved a tankard of grog at him. Marco's stomach violently protested at the thought of drinking more alcohol and sent a wave of bile up into his throat. He swallowed it back down with a grimace. </p><p>"We got some pineapple too!" Lucky Roo added, sending a ripple of boyish giggles through Shanks' crewmates. </p><p>Marco gave them a flat look. "How about a black coffee, and some peace and quiet?" </p><p>"I can give you the first one, dunno about the other." Shanks said, getting to his feet and busying himself with coffee grounds and filter paper like he had been waiting for Marco to say that.</p><p>Marco sat on the edges of one of the logs that had been brought out to serve as chairs for Shanks’ crew. He didn’t want to talk to them, though maybe some merciful God was up there after all, because all of them seemed content to pretend that Marco wasn’t there. Instead, Beckman turned his head to grab Yasopp’s attention and Lucky Roo made a show of tearing into a plate of ribs. </p><p>Marco could sense they were purposely deflecting attention away from what had happened the other day, and while he appreciated it, it came with a sense of bitterness at the same time. Because of how damn <em> obvious </em> it was. He almost wished that someone would point out what an utter ass he had made of himself.</p><p> </p><p>Marco glanced at Shanks' hip as he poured hot water into the coffee pot. His white shirt had a few slash marks in it, three horizontal cuts, accompanied by dark red stains. "Did I do that?" Marco whispered.</p><p>"Huh? Oh…" Shanks tugged up his shirt to show the bandages wrapped around his waist. </p><p>"You were flailing around quite a bit yesterday. I don't think you meant it. Don't worry about it." </p><p>Marco rubbed a hand down his face, full of bitter-sour guilt. "Will you stop sugar coating it?" </p><p>"Okay… Well, it actually hurt like a bitch."</p><p>Marco wobbled to his feet, then grabbed Shanks by his cloak so he could position his healing flames over the cuts. Weak blue embers dripped from Marco's palms, and Shanks winced as he touched them to the wound. </p><p>"You don't have to do that…" Shanks muttered. </p><p>Sweat beaded on Marco's brow the longer he tried to keep at it. Shanks ended up snatching his hand, making him lose focus and extinguishing the flames. </p><p>"Marco, seriously… Maybe when you're recovered, but not now!" </p><p>Marco scowled and withdrew his hand, bristling at the fact that Shanks wouldn’t even let him do his <em> job. </em></p><p>Once the coffee was brewed, Marco snatched the cup out of Shanks’ hand and turned back towards his dark cabin. Screw Shanks and his spontaneous parties, Marco wasn’t the type of man to hang just to be polite.</p><p>No one called him back as he slammed the door, and he was glad.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>A little while later, after Marco’s coffee had turned lukewarm in his hand, Shanks came to check up on him. Marco couldn’t get over the strangeness of Shanks so blithely entering the cabin he had called home ever since-</p><p>Ever since.</p><p>“You need a top-up?” Shanks asked, fumbling for the lights, since Marco hadn’t bothered to turn them on. Shanks dumped the coffee pot onto his bedside table, and decided to light an oil lamp instead. The room was soon filled with soft light and a smell of warming olive oil.</p><p>Marco said nothing, just shifted the cooled mug from one hand to the other.</p><p>“I’m sorry, I know you want to apologize…” Shanks said, hanging the lamp on a wall-hook. “But I don’t want you draining all your energy on me.” Shanks said. The mattress shifted as he sat himself down by Marco’s side. Marco got to his feet as soon as Shanks’ weight fully hit the bed. His cabin wasn’t big; just a low bed, kitchen area and bathroom, but he had to busy himself <em> somehow </em>. Anything to distract himself from Shanks’ simpering attempts to make him feel better.</p><p>“I’m surprised you haven’t asked me to join your crew yet.” Marco muttered, as he quickly stepped into the bathroom. He tugged on the light and yanked his shaving gear off the shelf where it had all been gathering dust. He jerked his hands back as his razor slipped out of his hands and clattered noisily into the sink.</p><p>“Didn’t seem like the time or place.” Shanks called as he followed him. Marco snorted at that, Shanks never bothered to hold back his stupid jokes before this, regardless of the ‘time or place’. </p><p> </p><p>Marco stared into the cracked mirror and brushed a hand through his beard. Now that he had sobered up, it really was foul to look at. Maybe someone would have said something, if he hadn’t purposely isolated himself up on the graveyard hill for so long.</p><p> </p><p>“You okay?” Shanks said, appearing in the corner of the mirror and shooting his reflection a quirky look. The triple scars cutting through his brows seemed to make it a little hard for him to move that side of his face, making the questioning look a little lopsided.</p><p>Marco had to stop himself from throwing something and screaming at him when he remembered who had given him those scars. “I need a shave, and a bath, this beard is revolting.” </p><p>“Are you sure that’s-” Shanks started to say, with a glance in the direction of Marco’s hands. He wasn’t sure what Shanks was looking at, until he noticed the faint tremor in his fingertips. Months of nonstop drinking had given him the shakes worse than an old man.</p><p>So now he had a dependency, great.</p><p>“I don’t need any help, you should probably get back to your crew.” Marco said. Shanks hovered by the door, probably uncertain about leaving a sad forlorn drunk alone with a straight razor. </p><p>“I’m not their keeper, I can trust them to not get into trouble for at least a few hours.”</p><p>Marco grumbled as he brushed his neck and cheeks with shaving foam, then picked up the razor.</p><p>Shanks watched him carefully as he touched the blade to the edge of his beard.</p><p>
  <em> It’s fine, it’s just shaving! You can do this.  </em>
</p><p>Marco cursed as the razor touched his jawline and his hands gave a sudden jerk. The blade was so finely sharpened that the cut was invisible, until blood started to ooze out in fat little drops. Marco sighed and put the blade down, already feeling like giving up. </p><p>“C’mon, let me help.” Shanks grabbed a couple of stools from the living room, and urged Marco to sit down. His own hand was rough and sure, perfectly still where it held the razor. “Chin up.”</p><p>Marco narrowed his eyes, not really in the mood to expose his throat to a one handed man with a very sharp blade.</p><p>“You don’t trust me? Fine, I’ll start up here.”</p><p>Shanks started chipping away at the thick, twisted blonde hairs on one side of his cheek. The matting was so severe that Shanks had to swipe several times, quickly irritating his skin. Marco growled and let him take a pair of trimming scissors to it. Best to let Shanks get on with it, instead of listen to more of his mother-hen clucking.</p><p>“I ah… I wanted to apologise for something I said yesterday.” Shanks said.</p><p>“I don’t exactly remember a whole lot from yesterday.” Marco mumbled, trying not to move his jaw too much in case the blade nicked him.</p><p>“I told you that I know how you’re feeling, because I lost Roger - you lost Whitebeard. But… you lost a lot more than that. They’re not really comparable at all.” Shanks paused to wipe off the razor before tackling Marco’s sideburns. “We all knew Roger was gonna die. We had time to say our goodbyes, make our peace with it. And it happened so <em> long </em> ago,” Shanks continued, “I really don’t know why I said that. I’m sorry, no <em> wonder </em> you got so mad.”</p><p>“I barely even remember that conversation. Just forget about it.” Marco gruffed. Shanks finished his sideburns and put down the razor to wipe his face with a soft cloth. Marco tried to ignore the brush of his fingers against the shell of his ear. </p><p>"It's just that-" Shanks started, before Marco cut him off. </p><p>"You know, being helped to shave by another man is embarrassing enough, without you trying to give me a motivational talk at the same time, yoi." </p><p>"Hey, there's nothing embarrassing about needing help." </p><p>“If you say so…”</p><p> </p><p>Shanks left him with a surprisingly smooth shave, all that was left was an unpleasantly itchy chinstrap and some stubble on his neck. </p><p>"I really do need you to lift your chin up,” Shanks said. “unless you want me to leave you with a lovely neck beard." </p><p>Marco slowly lifted his neck, exposing his throat to the sharp blade. Shanks ran the edge expertly along the curve of his throat, relieving him of the itchy stubble with only a few sweeps. </p><p> </p><p>Shanks put the razor down on the rim of the sink. He held Marco’s chin and turned his face back and forth a couple of times, swiping his palm over his cheeks before nodding with content. Marco scowled when Shanks wouldn’t let him go.</p><p>“There something you want to say, Red-Hair?” Marco growled.</p><p>“Me? No, nothing!”</p><p>Shanks uncorked a bottle of aftershave with his teeth, then a blank look crossed his face as he tried to figure out how to actually get any of its contents out. Marco sighed and snatched the bottle, then he poured a little of the liquid onto his hands before rubbing it over his cheeks. He wondered how Shanks managed to dress himself in the mornings sometimes.</p><p>“I don’t understand you.” Marco muttered, hissing at the sting the aftershave left. “You’re one of the four emperors. You cause the press to freak out if you so much as breathe, and you’re <em> here </em>?”</p><p>“Yep, I’m here. What’s hard to understand about that?”</p><p> </p><p>“Because I’m not… ‘important’ enough to warrant a visit. I used to be, but I’m not anymore.”</p><p>“You’re still important, Marco.”</p><p>Marco was finding that a little hard to believe. When he had been at Whitebeard’s side, together they had carved their names into history, staked their claim to entire islands. Without the Whitebeards? Marco was just a sad, drunk bum and he was sure everyone with eyes could see it.</p><p>Marco got up to start running a bath, then turned to glower over his shoulder. “You’re<em> not </em>helping me into the tub.”</p><p>“Ah, of course not! But uh, I’ll come back to check on you in an hour, yeah?”</p><p>Shanks left him alone to undress in peace, but Marco couldn’t help glancing down at the rim of the sink.</p><p>Shanks had taken the razor blade with him.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><hr/><p> </p><p>Marco’s cabin was dark by the time Shanks went to go and check on him again. The man was curled up on his bed half-dressed, though at least smelling better. His relief that Marco hadn’t managed to drown himself was offset by how much he was muttering in his sleep.</p><p>"I just want it to go away… That's all! Just go away..." </p><p>A violent tremor wracked Marco’s shoulders. </p><p>Whenever Shanks thought of him, he thought of a cocky grin and lazily hooded eyes, sure of himself as he soared through the air on glittering wings. To see Marco the Phoenix, this big man with such a huge presence looking so small and frail...</p><p> </p><p>No wonder Marco hated him for seeing him like this.</p><p> </p><p>He sat down carefully on the bed next to Marco, trying not to disturb him. His head whipped around as soon as Shanks touched his shoulder.</p><p>
  <em> Ah. Well, so much for that. </em>
</p><p>Marco’s eyes stared at him for a few moments, watery and slightly bloodshot.</p><p>"I can't... Every time I shut my eyes I see them. Pops, Ace…” Marco whispered.</p><p> </p><p>Shanks knew he couldn't say anything. Marco was lost to him, too submerged in the depths of grief for him to reach. He wasn’t sure if Marco truly registered his presence, if he was talking to him or just muttering to himself. He curled further into himself on the bed, knees tucking into his chest. </p><p>Even if Marco didn’t know or didn’t care about his presence, Shanks wanted him to know he was there for him somehow. He lay down at his side, resting his face against the back of Marco’s neck and curling his legs underneath him like a chair.</p><p>“Just make it all go away…”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <em> Oh how I wish I could, Marco. </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>THEY HUGGEd SORTA SEE YOU IN ANOTHER MONTH LOL.<br/>(hopefully I will have smut next time but we’ll see. Jesse does not make promises okay? okay.)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. We are gliding through the things that tear us apart</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Marco is deeply out of his comfort zone. Learning how to love again is like jumping off a cliff while wearing a blindfold, and hoping that your wings catch the wind.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>okay okay this is the juicy part I've been struggling with my old man legs to get to, like an old gent walking up a hill with his cane to get a nice view before he suddenly drops dead of a massive coronary. </p><p>… That metaphor got away from me a bit. The point is, I feel like the first two chapters were mostly just me finding my feet writing these two idiots and I feel a lot more confident with them. Now we can get to the juicy part!<br/>I’m officially upgrading this fic to explicit, half the word count here is smut not even kidding. So if you’re under 18 get the fuck off my lawn. You're welcome, all four marcoshanks fans. </p><p>(Sidenote and SPOILERS for the manga but I’m really happy Izo is alive (for now anyway *sweats*) and Marco is kicking ass, god Oda just let them be happy--)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>A new day, a new opportunity for things to go wrong. </p><p>Marco groaned, feeling far from refreshed. Then something made him jolt; something he had forgotten and desperately needed to remember.</p><p>He flinched and turned around. It almost felt like someone had been here with him. Someone in his bed? Well, whoever it was, they weren’t here now. </p><p>Marco reached out, sweeping his hand over the sheets. He could have been imagining it, but he thought he felt a slight indent in the mattress. Then he spotted it.</p><p>A hair left behind that was a little too red to be his own. </p><p>He sighed and sat up. </p><p>There was a weird tremor in his stomach; some strange feeling he wasn’t sure how to put a finger on. </p><p>There was another gap in his memory from last night, and he couldn’t blame it on the booze. His emotions had gotten the better of him, turned his mind into a mess of swirling fog. He was no psychologist, but he knew that depression caused the short term memory to fail. Maybe it had long term effects, too? Marco barely had any memories of the past year and a half. </p><p>He heaved himself out of bed and slipped into his sandals, not bothering to make himself presentable before striding out. </p><p> </p><p>The fire pit in the middle of town was still there, but Shanks’ crew seemed to have left. A light drizzle kissed the ground, barely more than a spray of mist. The sun was behind it, making everything smell fresh and warm. </p><p>For a moment, he stood in his doorway. </p><p>He should have felt relieved that Shanks had buggered off and left him in peace.</p><p>But he didn’t.</p><p> </p><p>Marco walked across the entire village, which didn’t take long, asking around if anyone had seen Red-Hair. They pointed him to a once-unoccupied cabin. Shanks had been crashing inside, by the looks of it. </p><p>Crossing over to  the wooden steps, he rapped on the door before letting himself in. </p><p>Shanks looked up from where he sat at the tiny kitchen table, a cracked cup halfway to his lips. “Uh, good morning.” </p><p>“You just invited yourself in here, yoi?”</p><p>Shanks' eyes flicked back and forth between Marco and his cup. “Have I done something wrong? I was told I could stay here for a while.”</p><p>Marco frowned at him and folded his arms. “I knew the woman who used to live here. She was a widow. No kids, and very ill. She didn’t specify who she wanted to leave it to when she died. I was treating her for a while, but she passed in her sleep.”</p><p>“That must have been hard for you. Sometimes, it’s just their time.”</p><p>Marco stared at him a while longer, until Shanks awkwardly cleared his throat.</p><p>“Y’know, this place wouldn’t make a bad doctor’s office. It’s a bit of a fixer-upper.”</p><p>“Maybe. I don’t much feel like disturbing a dead woman’s things, even on a good day.”</p><p>“I’m sure she wouldn’t mind you using her place for healing. The world sorely needs good doctors.”</p><p>Marco made a thoughtful noise and sat down, admitting to himself that he might have a point. Whether or not he would admit it out loud was another matter.</p><p>Shanks quietly shoved an old teapot towards Marco, along with an extra cup. Marco poured himself a cup of tea, then quirked his head. “Where’s your crew, yoi?”</p><p>“I sent ‘em back to the ship. I was worried you were starting to feel a little crowded.”</p><p>“Well, good.”</p><p> </p><p>Marco swiped over the back of his neck with his hand and stared into his cup. He wanted to thank the man, if only for putting up with his bullshit. But he didn't want to voice how weak and exposed he felt. No longer hungover, but wobbly as a baby bird.</p><p>Then he remembered all the reasons he still had to be angry. “I saw you take the razor.”</p><p>Shanks winced.</p><p>“You think I wouldn’t have killed myself already if I wanted to?" Marco continued. "You don’t have to condescend to taking every sharp object away from me!”<br/>“You’re right, I’m sorry.” Shanks said, oddly quiet for him. “I’m not sure what I was thinking. Only that I need you to be okay.”</p><p> </p><p>Marco frowned at him in confusion. <em> Who needs who now?  </em></p><p>Shanks turned away with the muscles in his jaw working. Was he clenching his teeth together to avoid saying anything more? He abandoned the rest of his tea and went to the kitchen counter. A basket was sitting there, its contents covered up with a striped yellow and red plaid cloth. </p><p>“Come with me. I made a packed lunch, and I think we should go eat it.” Shanks said.</p><p>“It’s raining.” Marco groused. </p><p>Shanks gave him a bright look as he tucked the basket under his arm. “Barely! Come on, let’s go get some air!”</p><p> </p><p>The drizzle had eased off by the time Shanks dragged Marco puffing and panting up to a grassy hillside above the town. Although to Marco, it felt more like a small mountain.</p><p>“Nearly there!” Shanks called down to him.</p><p>“You’ve said that seven times already!” Marco yelled back, feeling his calves throb and sweat pool against the back of his shirt.</p><p>“Well, this time I actually mean it!”<br/><br/></p><p>Marco glared at Shanks’ cloaked back. His empty stomach roared, and he felt lightheaded. His patience was wearing thinner by the minute.</p><p>He supposed he could just fly up. But ever since they had fought, he honestly wasn’t sure if he could summon the energy to try. </p><p>“Nearly there, pretty bird!”</p><p>“I <em> will </em> kill you, Red-Hair!”<br/>“You have to get to the crest of this hill first!”</p><p>“Son of a- what awful thing did I do in a past life-?” Marco muttered, his anger being the only thing fueling him to climb the rest of the way up the hill. Once at the top, he flopped onto the picnic blanket Shanks was trying to spread out.</p><p>“Can you-?”</p><p>“No, I can’t.” Marco panted, pointing an accusing finger up at Shanks. “Not until <em> you </em> apologize for calling me, ‘pretty bird’.”</p><p>“Anger is as good motivation as any for getting you to exercise!”<br/>Marco let his hand drop back down. “You’re exhausting.”</p><p>Shanks shrugged and tossed the rumpled blanket on the ground. “So I've been told. Let’s eat!”</p><p> </p><p>Shanks put the basket on the blanket and pulled out bread, cheese, and preserves, as well as freshly churned butter. </p><p>Marco almost sobbed as he put the first bite of bread and cheese in his mouth. Shanks kept sawing off pieces of bread and cheese for him until his mouth became too dry to eat anymore, then he opened a bottle of cloudy apple juice. Marco gulped down three cups in a row, not remembering the last time anything tasted this good<b>. </b>He ate more than his share without even realising it. Half the loaf and most of the cheese was gone before Shanks even had a chance to grab a bite.</p><p>“Don’t worry about it. I’m still full from last night.” Shanks said, slapping his stomach. “You missed a pretty sick party!”</p><p>“What are you, nineteen?” Marco scoffed, even though he was grateful to finally have a full stomach after drinking on an empty stomach for so many days in a row. “Thank you, though. It was delicious.”</p><p> </p><p>His stomach grumbled another set of noises and Shanks grinned. Tossing back the remaining cloth in the basket, he asked, “Still hungry?” </p><p>A whole pineapple sat there. </p><p>Marco swung his head up slowly to stare at Shanks. “Jackass.”</p><p>“Well, it is your favourite, isn’t it?”<br/>“Yeah but, you don’t have to say it.”</p><p>Shanks chuckled and pulled a knife out to start cutting up the fruit. Marco took it upon himself to hold the thing steady while Shanks went at it. At least if he lost a hand, he'd be able to regenerate it. Probably.</p><p>Dissatisfied with Shanks’ sloppy cutting technique, Marco soon grabbed the fruit and knife off of him to show him the right way to remove the skin without taking huge chunks of the flesh with it. </p><p>Shanks delegated the rest of the task to him, and a few moments later, Marco passed him a slice of the juicy fruit. </p><p>Marco had only just taken a bite for himself when Shanks spoke.</p><p>“I thought I had better wait until you sobered up to tell you this but, Izo is still alive.”</p><p>Marco stared at him with juice running down his fingers. The Payback War had been so much chaos, so much blood and screaming that he had no idea how many of his former crew had made it out. “Izo is-?!”<br/>“He’s been looking for you. I didn’t know what to tell him when I ran into him. He seemed well, except for maybe a new scar or two.”</p><p>Marco looked to the side, chewing on his chunk of fruit. He felt a little guilty, making Izo worry like that. Somehow, he had convinced himself that no-one would come looking for him; that no one cared.</p><p>“There’s people out there who still need you, Marco.”</p><p>"Pft, no one <em> needs </em> me.” Marco said, sucking the juice off his fingers. “I feel like if I show my face to the world right now, I’ll get laughed at. Someone will probably come along wanting my head. They could make a contest out of it; ‘first to hunt the phoenix wins a prize!’”</p><p>“You’re bloviating on the ‘what if’s’, don't you think? I'm sure there are a lot of people who'd be glad to know you're safe."</p><p> </p><p>Marco slumped backwards onto the blanket and stared up at the sky. It felt too big, too blue, too expansive and wide to be real. Stupid thing to think, when he had spent half his life airborne. The entire world felt far too large in general.</p><p>“Can we just stay up here?” Marco said. “I don’t feel like going back to town for a while.”</p><p>Shanks gave him a radiant smile. “Of course. I can make us a fire when it gets dark.” </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Late afternoon turned into early dusk. </p><p>Between the two of them, they had eaten the entire contents of Shanks’ picnic basket, including the pineapple. The spiky leaves and skin of the fruit were tossed haphazardly around. Marco grabbed the leftover crumbs from the loaf of bread and tossed them into the grass. He whistled a few times and a flock of tiny birds descended. The little blue bird Marco had named Periwinkle came and hopped onto Shanks’ leg, tilting its tiny head at him before hopping away to look for more crumbs.</p><p> </p><p><em> "Gah!" </em> Shanks cried suddenly, making the birds scatter into the air for a moment. He stuck out his tongue in a grimace and pressed his hand to his cheeks with his thumb on the soft underside of his jaw. "Why does pineapple <em> burn </em> when you eat so much of it?!" </p><p>"They contain a chemical called, ‘bromelain’." Marco said with a chuckle. "It dissolves the protective mucous coating in your mouth and breaks down the amino acids. It eats you right back, basically." </p><p>"Bastard of a fruit!" </p><p>"It'll stop soon. Your mouth recovers the damage pretty fast." </p><p>"Not fast enough! This is the worst feeling in the world!" </p><p>The birds settled back down and Shanks shoved a hand into the basket to look for more crumbs to feed them with. A couple of them landed in his hand to peck. All the while, Shanks continued to groan at the burning that seemed to attack the base of his throat in particular.</p><p>Marco rumbled out a laugh as he stretched out on his side to watch the birds. He rested his chin on his fist and smirked. "One of the mighty Four Emperors, defeated by a spiky yellow fruit." </p><p>"Oh and it doesn’t affect you?”</p><p>"I'm a phoenix; I could drink a barrel of pineapple juice and not feel a thing. I regenerate the damage as fast as I lose it." </p><p>Marco put his other hand out and Shanks tipped the breadcrumbs into Marco's palm. As expected, the birds followed. As cute as it was, seeing the affection in Marco's eyes for the little creatures, it did give Shanks flashbacks to a few days ago. When Marco had been somewhere in-between a drunken wild man and a living statue covered in their droppings. </p><p>"I get why it's your favourite now." Shanks said. </p><p>"Not really because of that. I just think it tastes nice, yoi." </p><p>Shanks looked at him sharply, then grinned. "I know an interesting fact about pineapples, too!"</p><p>Marco fixed him with his best 'I'm done with your shit' look. His brow rumpled sardonically and his hooded eyes narrowed. Shanks <em> adored </em> that look. "Would this have something to do with the affect pineapples have on a certain bodily fluid?" </p><p>"Ah, so you know about it, too?" Shanks leaned forward with a smirk. “I’ve been wanting to find out if it’s true for some time now.”</p><p>Marco rolled his eyes. His birds flew away as he got up, pausing to kick Shanks over before he walked away. </p><p>"I'm going to go take a leak, yoi. Why don't you make yourself useful and get that fire going?" </p><p>Shanks hit the ground with a small 'oof!' and watched him walk away towards the treeline. A powerful yearning hit him. </p><p>He hadn't come here meaning to confess. But now that they were alone and Marco seemed more himself… It couldn't hurt, could it? </p><p>He shook his head, trying to busy himself finding stones for the fire pit and some dry wood for kindling. It had been what, twenty years since they had first met? </p><p>
  <em> Far too long to sit around being a coward, anyway. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Shanks was still fiddling with the flint and steel when Marco came back. The wood he had gathered was damp from the earlier drizzle of rain, and the kindling was struggling to catch. Shanks watched Marco from under his lashes as he tried again and again to get a spark to ignite. He didn’t ask for help, even though Marco was tapping his foot with waning patience. </p><p> </p><p>Shanks was familiar enough with Marco’s powers to know that he shouldn’t be using them right now. Just because a phoenix’s powers were unlimited didn’t mean the human part of him was, too. A silly fear nagged at Shanks that he would turn around and Marco would be crumbled into dust, his energy depleted for good. </p><p>Shanks had wondered for years if a newborn baby would sprout in his place, squalling and covered with ash. He hoped not. While Marco probably needed a fresh start about now, that was a little extreme.</p><p> </p><p>Marco looked about ready to burst in frustration, opening his mouth as if he were about to beg Shanks to let him light it already. But then the tinder finally caught the spark, and a flame licked hungrily up to the roof of intersecting logs.</p><p>“Hey, success!” Shanks said. </p><p>“Yeah, let’s hope the wind doesn’t blow it out.”</p><p>“Always looking on the bright side of things as usual, my fine bird.”</p><p>Marco gave a small snort and leaned forward to put his hands over the fire. On instinct, his hands became longer and more birdlike as he did it. Shanks loved watching him; he loved everything about Marco. The slow shift of fingers to long black claws was almost hypnotic. He only wished he could see Marco use them more; watch blue fire erupt from his arms.</p><p>Watch him <em> be himself </em> again.</p><p> </p><p>The way it was now, Marco still looked drained, even after a hearty meal and some rest. Every time Shanks had been in Marco’s presence before, whether he was using his powers or not, there was a <em> heat </em> surrounding him. It had been like standing in front of a stove. But now, there was nothing.</p><p>Shanks waved a hand over Marco’s slumped shoulders to make sure he wasn’t imagining it. That heat was barely there anymore; little more than the warmth of a few smouldering coals.<br/>“What are you doing, yoi?” Marco said, looking at him like he'd gone crazy. </p><p>“Are you feeling okay? Physically, I mean. You’re not sick?”<br/>“Why d’you ask?”</p><p>“Because you’re a <em> phoenix! </em> You’re supposed to be hot to the touch! And now-”</p><p>Shanks poked a finger to his forehead, getting a feel of his cool skin before Marco slapped him away. </p><p>“It’s hard to generate much power right now, is all.” Marco said, pulling his arms around himself. “Not much point in using my powers when all I’ve done with them lately is fuck things up.”</p><p>Shanks didn’t ask before shrugging his cloak off and slipping it around Marco’s shoulders. Marco’s normally hooded eyes snapped wide open as the fabric hugged the contours of his sloped back.</p><p>“Keep warm for a while, yeah? I’m gonna go and find some more firewood; really build this thing up.”</p><p>Shanks felt the man watching him as he slipped off into the thin band of trees at the bottom of the nearest hill.</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>The moment Shanks draped his cloak around Marco’s shoulders, something in him <em> broke. </em> Shanks did it as if he wasn’t even thinking about it, lightly tugging the generous black fabric to make sure it was covering him. He even threw one side over to make sure no cold air could get in. It wasn’t exactly the softest of blankets, and smelled of more than a few drunken parties, but it was <em> warm.  </em></p><p>Marco had tolerated the man’s attempts to take care of him so far, but being carefully wrapped up like an abandoned stray animal kicked him straight in the gut.</p><p><br/>Marco was crying by the time Shanks got back with more firewood.</p><p> </p><p>Even as he dropped the bundle of wood with a loud clatter and ran like the devil was chasing him to reach Marco, Shanks’ voice was gentle. “Hey.” </p><p>Shanks seemed to throw away whatever self preservation instincts he had to wrap Marco in a hug, and Marco clung to him like he was his lifeline.</p><p>“What’s wrong?” Shanks said, but Marco didn’t even know if he could begin to explain. Some kind of dam had burst inside him and he grabbed Shanks’ shoulder to weep into his white shirt.</p><p>He hadn’t been treated this way since his crew were all alive and all together. Together with Thatch, who showed love through his cooking. With Ace, who showed love as freely as he breathed; through fighting, through his smile. With Pops, who showed love by keeping them all safe, and with rumbles of his deep, silly laugh.</p><p>To have so much love surrounding him every day, going from that to nothing had <em> brutalised </em> him. </p><p>And he hadn’t even realised it until now.</p><p> </p><p>Birds went insane if they were denied the ability to flock with each other, ripped their own feathers out one by one just to feel something. They weren’t built to be alone.</p><p> </p><p>“I can’t explain it.” Marco said eventually, with a shiver. “I’m fine - really.”</p><p>He pushed Shanks away and buried further into the cloak to hide his face. But Shanks stayed at his side, watching him with twisted brows.</p><p>“I know, I’m pathetic.”</p><p>“I don’t think you’re pathetic. It's okay.”</p><p>Shanks breathed a long sigh, watching where the sun was sinking red and gold below the horizon. It pained Marco to try and do the same; the light was so bright that it gave him lingering spots in his field of vision.</p><p> </p><p>“I feel-” Shanks grimaced, like the words were hard to find. “-responsible.”</p><p>“For the war?”</p><p>Shanks paused again. "I wanted to avoid <em> all of this. </em>You know I did. That day I came to ask Whitebeard to stop Ace from chasing Blackbeard down. They call me an Emperor, but sometimes my hands - er, hand is tied.”</p><p>Marco lifted his eyebrows at him as he stared into his palm. Shanks continued, since his little fumble had failed to make Marco so much as smirk.</p><p>“You don’t know how many times I’ve had to sit by the wayside and watch tragedies unfold. Every day I think, ‘I could have prevented this’. If I’d said something or done something differently.”</p><p>“So you’re here because you blame yourself? What am I to you, some kind of penance?”</p><p>“No. I love you, Marco." </p><p>He said it as smoothly as the tide splashing up against the rocks, followed by a cool spray of sea mist. </p><p>Marco could only gape at how sudden it was. </p><p>Red-Haired <em> fucking </em> Shanks loved <em> him? </em></p><p> </p><p>He didn’t believe it; <em> couldn’t </em>believe it. And it must have shown in his face.</p><p>“It’s true.” Shanks said, like he was a little insulted at his reaction.</p><p>"Well, excuse me if I'm not feeling up to receiving a declaration of love from a fucking Emperor of the sea right now!" Marco snapped.</p><p>Shanks moved closer to Marco until their shoulders were almost brushing, whispering, “What can I do to prove to you that I’m being sincere?” </p><p>Marco could<em> tell </em> he wasn’t screwing around, and that made it so much worse. The electric, warm <em> longing </em> in Shank’s deep brown eyes was plain to see. On top of that, his pupils were completely blown wide.</p><p>
  <em> Oh god, he’s horny too. </em>
</p><p>Marco had to look away. There wasn’t a person on the planet, man or woman, who could take that kind of stare from him for more than a few moments. As much as Shanks pissed him off, he wasn’t sure if he had <em> earned </em> that kind of look.</p><p> </p><p>“How long have you felt like this?” Marco said, still staring at the ground next to Shanks’ sandals.</p><p>“Since always.”</p><p>“Bullshit.”</p><p>“No bullshit. When I first saw you sitting on the top mast of the Moby, I had never seen anyone like you. Just a kid and you somehow ate a Mythical Zoan fruit? I couldn’t stop staring.” Shanks said, with a breathy chuckle. “I don’t think you even bothered sparing me a glance back in those days. Or if you did, it was with contempt. Not that I blame you - I guess an apprentice kid on a rival crew wasn’t much to look at?”</p><p>Marco groaned, “Fuck.” </p><p>He thought back to all the times Roger and Pops’ crews had crossed paths. All the attempts on Shanks’ part to grab Marco’s attention. He had shrugged them all off with an annoyed huff, or a quick escape into the air where Shanks couldn’t follow. And then that had evolved into Shanks purposely trying to get a rise out of him by asking him to join the Red Hair Pirates. </p><p>It was all making sense now.</p><p> </p><p>The sun finally disappeared, leaving only a deep orange glow in the sky. Their little camp was thrown into shadow. Shanks tossed another log or two onto the fire, smothering the flames before the fire took to them a moment later. </p><p>Marco must have been making a strange expression, because Shanks raised his eyebrows at him. “You - you never felt the same way, did you?”</p><p>“Anyone would be lucky to be wanted by someone like you.” Marco said stiffly.</p><p>He had devoted his entire life to his crew, to his <em> family. </em>It hadn’t exactly left him available emotionally or-</p><p>Or in the ways he knew Shanks wanted, when he gave him that sly look. </p><p> </p><p>His own desires had been dulled, dampened by the fog of depression and grief. Food and drink all tasted the same. Masturbation was a routine obligation for stress relief and nothing more. The idea of someone wanting him in the state he was in now was <em> ludicrous. </em> He almost couldn’t stand the words that were coming out of Shanks’ mouth. </p><p> </p><p>"Marco, I'll be honest. I'm not asking you to return my feelings, or even acknowledge them. But I'm here for you. And I mean that in <em> every </em> sense of the word."</p><p>Shanks fucking <em> leaned back, </em> resting casually on his elbow, with his abs shifting as he stretched out. Was he really offering what Marco thought he was? </p><p>A flame flickered in his belly that had nothing to do with his powers. A heat underneath the surface of his skin when he thought about sliding into tight, eager flesh and forgetting about his own sadness for a while. When he thought about what the Emperor would look like shuddering from an orgasm, or what that beautiful red hair would look like tousled and covered in dirt from the ground-</p><p> </p><p>A line of fire erupted from Marco's shoulder, which he snuffed out before it could set Shanks' cloak alight. </p><p>Shanks' little smile widened and he shifted his thighs a little. "Tempted?" </p><p>"Shut your mouth, Red-Hair!" </p><p>He felt so hot that he wondered if his hair was on fire, too. He closed his eyes for a moment to gather himself. The fire in his belly shifted downwards, until he was breathing heavily and shifting towards Shanks spread legs.</p><p> </p><p>Shanks became a little awkward and cleared his throat, reaching into the pockets of his voluminous pants. He tossed out a small bottle of oil, then several packages of condoms.</p><p>Marco stared at them, feeling a blood vessel in his forehead starting to throb. “You. You brought these with you?”</p><p>Shanks gave him an apologetic half-shrug. "I always carry that stuff with me when I know I’m going to see you! Just on the off chance. A little candle I've been holding." When Marco continued to stare at him, he added. “I didn’t bring you up here for that, I promise. I wasn’t planning on taking advantage of you.”</p><p>“<em> 'Taking advantage' </em> of me?! You are the most insufferable human being I've ever met, yoi!" Marco growled, wondering how he could get the urge to thump Shanks over the head even while his pants grew uncomfortably tight.</p><p> </p><p>Marco moved forward to pin Shanks to the ground. </p><p>"I should kick your ass." Marco muttered, shifting between Shanks' thighs until Shanks couldn't ignore the lump pressing into the jut of his hip. </p><p>But then Shanks was reaching up and stroking over his jawline, caressing him in all the right ways. His thumb brushed over Marco's lower lip and down his throat and-</p><p>"<em>Oh. </em>" Marco breathed, suddenly not angry anymore as Shanks' broad hand trailed down his chest. </p><p>"You take the lead, pretty bird. Stop if you have to." </p><p> </p><p>Marco didn't feel the need to be delicate about this. His hands were too shaky, too clumsy as he traced the dip of Shanks' hip-bones. He tore away the sash around his waist and fumbled at the tie to the ridiculous loose pants he always wore. Shanks smirked at him as he hurried to pull them down, tossing them to the side so he could look at him more.</p><p>He wanted to beg Shanks to touch him more, to <em> drown </em>him in it. But he was too distracted by the sight of Shanks easing his erection free and touching himself, all while boldly looking Marco in the eye. The firelight glinted off his eyes, softening the jagged scars. </p><p> </p><p>Shanks reached for the lube and spread his legs, swiping the clear fluid over his ass without skipping a beat. Marco hungrily took the sight in. Shanks slipped his fingers into his tight ass to stretch himself out, then pulling back to stroke around in taunting little circles. No holds barred, he was offering his body to Marco, and he definitely wasn't about to refuse now. </p><p>"Come on, Marco." </p><p>Marco’s breath came out in uneven little pants, still fixed on the sight in front of him. Shanks' cock was twitching, releasing a line of precome that dripped into his happy trail. </p><p> </p><p>"Can't say I've ever fucked a bird before." Shanks murmured with a smile. He watched Marco pull his cock out with hooded eyes. He slipped his pants down around his hips and groped for the condoms.</p><p>"You're a fucking moron." Marco said as he slipped the condom over his cock, which was starting to throb almost painfully. "I hate you so much." He swung Shanks leg under one arm and wrenched his thighs open, pressing his tip to Shanks' entrance. </p><p>Shanks grinned at the contact and shut his eyes. "I love you, Marco-!" </p><p>Right then the only thing that existed was the heat of Shanks body and the sheer pleasure it wrought. He barely managed to be courteous enough to ease Shanks into it, before his savagely sharp nails sank into the other man's hips and he took what he wanted. Shanks' face was a revelation, face upturned towards the night sky; his features a mix of ecstasy and something else. Relief? </p><p>Shanks constantly rambled and muttered as Marco fucked him, sobbing almost as Marco eased himself deeper and deeper. His hand scrabbled at Marco’s back, trying to find some purchase. Moving his hand up to Marco’s neck, he wound his fingers into the collar of his shirt.</p><p>Marco’s technique was somewhere in the middle of clumsy and punishing, yet Shanks encouraged him on with every breathy groan. His thighs wrapped around Marco’s waist and gripped hard, until sweat pooled between their heaving bodies.</p><p>Marco tangled his fingers into Shanks hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. He wanted it tousled and messed up just like he had pictured it; wanted Shanks arching his back and writhing as he fucked him into the dirt. </p><p> </p><p>It didn’t last nearly as long as Marco wanted, but then Shanks didn’t last long either. </p><p>Marco’s fingers dug hard into Shanks’ hips as he came, barely restraining himself from shouting. If Shanks were anyone else, he'd worry that he had hurt him. </p><p>Then he realised he sort of had; the bandage from the other day had ripped from the force of his grip. A trickle of blood slipped down Shanks’ thigh as Marco pounded him through his orgasm. There was a fair coating of it smeared between them as Shanks released all over his stomach. </p><p>Shanks didn’t seem bothered by it at all as he moaned and gazed at Marco with half-lidded eyes. He cared even less when Marco reached down to thumb the head of his cock, stroking him as the last beads of come rolled down his tip.</p><p>Marco frowned, then reached out and hovered his palm over the claw marks he had inflicted. Blue flames burst beneath his palm. </p><p>Shanks winced a little, then relaxed as the angry red lines eased into a paler pink and closed up. Soon all that was left were a few vague indents, like someone had lightly dragged their fingernail down his skin. And then even those were gone. </p><p>"Charged up again?" Shanks said with a lazy grin. </p><p>"Guess so." Marco said, hoping Shanks didn't notice the shake in his voice as he slipped out. He made a mess of the blanket underneath them as he slipped the condom off, but he was beyond giving a shit. Shanks looked almost beautiful as he lay catching his breath, thick streaks of come laced over his stomach. Marco hadn't even come down from his orgasm yet and he wanted him again. He wanted as much as Shanks was willing to give him. </p><p> </p><p>He leaned down over Shanks and licked a line up his cock, lapping at the trail of come.  Shanks flinched as he slowly dragged his tongue over his slit, but didn't move away either. </p><p>"Well, can you taste the pineapple?" Shanks said, grin audible in his voice. </p><p>"Tastes like come to me." </p><p>
  <em> But it's still pretty good.  </em>
</p><p>“Maybe we can get a nice fruit tray and experiment sometime? I’m up for it some time if you are, pretty bi- <em> AH!” </em><br/>Marco took Shanks’ cock fully into his mouth, mostly to shut him up. But he had to admit that he enjoyed the act, too. He pulled back to tease his tip more, until Shanks pushed him away with a cry of “Stop, stop!” Marco gave him a single sharp grin as he pushed himself up, then stretched out at Shanks' side. </p><p>"I was expecting you to tell me to go jump off the cliff side, pretty bird. You’re full of surprises." </p><p>"There's still time yet, yoi." </p><p> </p><p>Marco idly stroked down Shank's sharp hip-bones, toying with the blood drying at the base of his stomach. Once wasn’t enough; he needed <em> more </em>. It was like eating after having an empty stomach for so long; he didn't realise how deep the hunger went until the food was in his mouth. </p><p>Marco soon found his face buried against Shanks' chest, inhaling the smell of sweat and grinding his hips into Shank's thigh. </p><p>"You can't get enough of me, hm?" Shanks said, his voice trailing off into a sharp hiss as Marco took one of his nipples into his mouth and sucked hard. </p><p> </p><p>Shanks pushed him back, lightly, until Marco sat down. </p><p>"May I?" Shanks eased himself into Marco’s lap and grinned at him; sultry look in his eyes, red hair hanging in his face.</p><p>“You look like a fucking wreck.” Marco muttered. Not wanting to say out loud how gorgeous he looked with his white shirt rumpled and hanging off one shoulder. </p><p>Shanks chuckled. “You know, I’ve never regretted losing my arm once in my life, except now.”</p><p>“Oh?”</p><p>“Yeah, wish I had two hands to touch you with, Marco.”</p><p><em> Fuck. </em>Marco’s stomach gave a savage twist, the gentle words seizing up his throat and making his face feel hot.</p><p>“Shut the hell up.”</p><p>Shanks leaned in to kiss his neck with a croon, right in his ear. “You <em> wound </em>me, pretty bird. That hurt more than your claws did.”</p><p> </p><p>Shanks wore a strange smile as he stroked his hand down the curve of Marco’s neck, the smile of someone begging to be kissed. Marco shivered at the contact of his rough palm and looked away. It felt like kissing would be too intimate; somehow, even more intimate than fucking. </p><p>Instead, he pulled Shanks close and pressed his mouth under his sharp jawline. He let his scruffy stubble catch on his skin, even though his own was still soft and tender from his shave the other day.</p><p>Marco could feel him getting hard again, quietly keening and grinding his semi-hard cock against Marco's stomach. He never imagined he would see Shanks like this, desperate and so fucking <em> needy.  </em></p><p>Marco’s hands swiped up the sweaty expanse of Shanks’ back, idly sweeping away a few specks of dirt and twigs with the back of his hand. Then his hands trailed slowly down to the slight indent of his spine. He didn’t expect Shanks to <em> jerk </em> and clench his thighs the way he did, when his fingers slid over his ass, still slick and open. </p><p>“This what you want?” Marco growled, sucking a mark onto the side of Shanks’ neck. Shanks’ yell was completely unrestrained when Marco slid two fingers inside him. His cock twitched from where it was trapped against their stomachs, hardening further.</p><p>“Yeah, but you know what else I want?” Shanks panted.</p><p>He pulled back and rose up a little higher on Marco’s lap, so their chests pressed together and Shanks’ leaking dick dragged across his stomach. "I want you to say my name." </p><p>Marco's brow crinkled in a frown. "Red-Hair?" </p><p>"No, my <em> name </em>. My actual name." </p><p>"Why does it matter?" Marco muttered, as he took himself in hand and teased his tip to Shanks’ entrance. It would be so easy for Shanks to slide down and take him, but he didn’t. He was waiting - waiting for Marco to take the initiative. </p><p>
  <em> For me to show that I want him back? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>"Because-" Shanks broke off with a shaky breath as Marco slid his tip against him, not quite penetrating him but applying pressure. "I want you to see me." </p><p>"Is that really all you want, to be 'seen'?" </p><p>"Yeah, more than anything." Shanks bit his lip as Marco slid his tip inside him, only briefly. His lips parted with a wet little gasp, making Marco want to slip his tongue between them and <em> taste </em> him. “Well, except <em> one </em> other thing.”Shanks' thighs shook from where he was straining to not sink down, pressing himself against the tip of his cock, then straightening back up again. “Marco, come <em> on!” </em></p><p> </p><p>Marco fixed Shanks with a stare, squeezed his thigh. He knew he couldn’t give Shanks what he wanted, not completely. But they had been through a few things together, maybe Red-Hair had earned it just this once. </p><p> </p><p>“Shanks.” </p><p>Shanks didn’t have time to look shocked as Marco grabbed the back of his neck and yanked him into a kiss. He took what he wanted out of him - no, what Shanks was <em> offering </em> to him gladly. He slid his tongue into his mouth, tasting the sweetness of the fruit they had eaten earlier. Shanks kissed him hungrily back, his mouth as soft as Marco had hoped, with his scruff catching on his skin until it made him sore. </p><p> </p><p>Their tongues twined and at the same moment, Marco grabbed Shanks’ hips and forced him down. </p><p>The shout Shanks made was inhuman; the sound of a man getting everything he goddamn needed. Shanks’ mouth started to form the first syllable of Marco’s name before he was silenced with a kiss. </p><p>Marco pulled back, licking the taste of him from his lips. “Never thought I’d see you speechless.”</p><p>Shanks didn’t have a counter-argument; no more sly quips as Marco tilted his hips, grinding hard towards Shanks’ prostate.</p><p>Shanks moaned again and dropped down, despite his earlier insistence on Marco taking the lead. Marco smirked as he watched him for a few moments, riding him with graceful rolls of his hips, sinking down to the hilt every time. </p><p> </p><p>Marco twisted his fingers into Shanks' hair and pulled his head back to expose his throat. He bit down, sucking hard enough to leave little red marks. He left more of them as he pressed his lips to his neck, under the curve of his jaw. </p><p>"K-Keep saying it! Say my name!" </p><p>"Shanks…" Marco muttered it, a low chant as Shanks slammed his hips down, building that fire between their heaving chests.</p><p>“Fuck me, oh Marco-!”</p><p>The name came out stuttered and broken as Marco pulled him down a final time, making him come and spill over Marco’s chest. Shank’s shout was loud enough to echo around the hills, and Marco wouldn’t be surprised if it reached the village far below. </p><p><em> I’m not done yet! </em>Marco thought almost roughly as he felt his own climax building. But Shanks didn’t tell him to stop, even though the overstimulation must have been bordering on agony. </p><p><em>‘Use me as much as you want’, huh?</em> <em>Well, if he’s serious...</em></p><p>Marco grabbed his hips hard, so hard that his nails drew blood on the same part he had just healed. He took his time, driving his cock into Shank’s tired body until the other man curled tense and sweating against his shoulder, wrapping his hand into Marco’s hair. Marco glanced at him biting his lip as he sped up.</p><p>“Want me to come inside you?” Marco muttered.<br/>He got a shaky whimper of ‘yes’ in return and felt his thighs tremble uncontrollably. Burying his face into Shank’s shoulder to stop himself from making noise, he couldn’t stop his sharp nails from dragging red marks down Shank’s broad back.</p><p>Shanks desperately slid off his cock as soon as he released him, knees trembling and mouth parted. Marco watched as his come spilled down Shanks’ thighs. If he looked like a fucking wreck before, he looked like a <em> complete </em> fucking wreck now. His red hair was plastered to his forehead, and Marco had the sudden urge to brush it away and tuck it behind his ear. He obeyed that urge and ran his finger alongside Shanks' cheek. </p><p>He cleared his throat and looked away, because Shanks wouldn’t stop <em> staring </em>with that utterly loving and blissed out haze in his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>Marco ran his hand up Shanks’ back and rolled him off his lap to lay him down. </p><p>He remembered then that he’d long since lost the need for Shanks’ cloak; his body was radiating almost as much heat as the fire. So much that a thin sheen of sweat covered Shanks’ tan skin. </p><p>Shanks draped his hand over his forehead as he tried to catch his breath. "Marco, fuck - I can't feel my fucking legs!" </p><p>The praise warmed him even more, and brought a satisfied smirk to his lips.</p><p>The cloak was discarded a few feet away, thankfully away from the mess they made. Marco grabbed it, then swung it over them both. </p><p>Shanks pressed his hand under Marco’s jaw as he curled up close, closing his eyes as if he were already on the verge of sleep. “Pretty bird.”</p><p>Marco didn’t feel the need to tell him to shut up for once. He kissed Shanks on the forehead and went to sleep.</p><p>
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</p><p>Shanks awoke to a peck-peck-peck on his forehead. Marco sat across from him in his full bird form, looking harmless compared to what had attacked him a couple of days ago.</p><p>The sun was only just starting to peek out from behind the hills, making Marco’s feathers shine. </p><p>Shanks stretched groggily. “Good morning, pretty bird.”</p><p>Marco changed back into human form, he had been up for a while, seeing as he was already dressed. He let Shanks stroke over his jawline and caress under his throat. Shanks remembered the previous night and smiled, a delicious feeling of relaxation in his body.</p><p>“About time you woke up.” Marco muttered, eyes closed as he let Shanks touch him.</p><p>“I slept too well. You made sure of that.”</p><p>Shanks pulled him into a kiss, until Marco pulled away, clearing his throat.</p><p>“I should get back to town; get cleaned up.”</p><p>Blue wings flared out of Marco’s arms as he got to his feet, embers scattering in the wind.</p><p>“What, you’re not gonna walk down with me?” Shanks said, with a grin spreading across his face. He delighted in seeing Marco confidently spread his wings, the way he used to.</p><p>Marco snorted. “My legs still hurt from yesterday! You can take the slow way down.”<br/>“Are you sure they don’t hurt for another reason?”</p><p>“Fuck you.”</p><p>Shanks chuckled and tossed the empty basket at him. “At least carry this down with you, chicken feet.”</p><p>Marco grabbed the basket with his talons and flapped away.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Ah, he’s shy. How cute. </em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Marco was in the process of changing into a fresh set of clothes when Shanks barged into his house. He yawned and stroked his hand up Marco’s back as he buttoned up his white shirt, then looked at Marco through his reflection in the mirror.</p><p>“You look nice.” Shanks said. “Very doctorly.”</p><p>“I was thinking about what you said; about using that old place as an office. There’s not a lot of people on this island but…”</p><p>“The world needs good doctors.” Shanks finished for him, reaching up to smooth down his collar.“Listen I ah, I <em> really </em> don’t want to, but I have to ship out again soon. Will you be alright?”<br/>“No, but it’s okay. I can handle it.”</p><p>Shanks looked into the mirror and combed his hair with his hand, while Marco finished buttoning his shirt.</p><p>“Hey Red-Hair, if you see Izo out there again… Can you tell him to come here?”</p><p>“Of course.”</p><p>Marco stared at himself in the mirror a while longer, at his crisp shirt and cropped pants. He had a second chance, another chance at life. Maybe it was another opportunity to screw it up in a new way, but he was still going to try his damndest to make the most of it. </p><p>Shanks’ hand snuck up to undo the top buttons on his shirt until the tops of his abs were showing.</p><p>Marco snorted with laughter and turned around.</p><p>“That’s better.” Shanks said, leaning up to kiss him.</p><p> </p><p>Marco all but bullied Shanks down to the bay where the Red Force waited, hurrying him out before he said something stupid, like that he might actually miss him.</p><p> </p><p>“Alright, alright!” Shanks said. “I’ll get out of your feathers. But I want to give you a couple things first.”</p><p>Shanks pulled a scrap of paper, with his chicken scratch writing on it.</p><p>“It’s my transponder snail number. Call me if you ever need me, or if you just want to talk.”<br/>“Like I want to hear you ramble on about pineapples and semen again.” Marco said, snatching the piece of paper and folding it into his top pocket. Shanks barked out a handsome laugh, his lower lids crinkling and his white teeth flashing.</p><p>Shanks gave him a light smack on the shoulder, then grabbed his hand. Marco frowned at him, thinking they had gone a bit beyond friendly handshakes by now. Then as Shanks released him, he felt the stiff material of a scrap of Vivre Card in his palm.</p><p>“Don’t argue, just take it. I want to see you again, Pretty Bird."</p><p>Marco gave him a scrutinising look for a moment, before tearing off a piece of his and handing it to Shanks. Just a tiny piece, with a neat little 'M' scribbled on it. </p><p> </p><p>The smile Shanks gave him put that fire in his belly again. </p><p>Marco cleared his throat. “It’s so you don’t come randomly barging in again.”</p><p>“If you say so. I’ll see you around.”</p><p> </p><p>Shanks waved, starting to walk towards his ship, when Marco called after him.  “Hey, Red-Hair.”</p><p>The tone of Marco’s voice made Shanks instantly turn to look at him, giving him his full attention.</p><p>“Ace’s brother, the one you gave your hat to,” Marco continued. “You think he can really do it?”</p><p>“Is that even a question?”<br/>“Yeah, I’m asking you. If you think he can do it - become the Pirate King.” </p><p>Shanks laughed, the rich sound echoing around the cliffs. “You think I would have given it away if I didn’t? Why do you ask?”<br/><br/></p><p>Marco turned away, not really intending to answer him. He had seen the kid all over the news, raising hell like no rookie had done in two decades. Losing Pops and Ace in one fell swoop meant that neither of them would ever be King. It was something Marco was still struggling with. The pulsing ache of lost potential, gaping open and still pouring blood like an open wound. </p><p>He had started to wonder if maybe, just maybe, it was time to put his faith in someone else. Help crown a new king. If it had to be someone, Straw Hat Luffy might be the best bet.</p><p> </p><p>Shanks stood there with his head tilted, waiting. Marco sighed and walked down the path, not wanting to voice all the regrets floating around his mind. Shanks looked up, made even shorter by the decline of the hill. Marco pulled him into a hug, muttering “Thank you.” into his neck.</p><p>“Anytime, Marco.”</p><p> </p><p>A few curious faces were appearing on board the Red Force. Yasopp, in particular, with his sharp marksman’s eyes was shooting them a knowing look.</p><p>Marco rolled his eyes and pulled Shanks into a kiss, not caring what any of his crewmates might think about it.</p><p>Shanks grinned and marched off towards the ship, hollering as he went.</p><p>“Hey, Yasopp! Get off your ass and let’s get moving!”</p><p>
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</p><p>Marco decided he didn't want to watch him go like a forlorn woman on a hilltop, so he flew up into the air. He went full phoenix form, feathers greeting the sky as he gave Shanks a show to send him off. He tumbled and wheeled, enjoying the sensation of flight for once. </p><p>Maybe he’d fly away to crown a new king, or maybe he'd stay out on this island until the day he died. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I'm not going to pack it in for a while yet. Maybe long enough to see the new pirate King crowned, or hell, maybe…  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Maybe long enough to see Red-Haired fucking Shanks again.  </em>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>yes that one line was inspired by mel’s gorgeous art which i encourage y’all to stare at here:</p><p>https://watermelon-chan.tumblr.com/post/620283463347617792/from-ashes-phoenix-rise</p><p>WHEW I’m real happy i got this finished, if you stuck to the end of this monster chapter, thank you!! Tell me what you think~<br/>Thanks to eclecticismymiddlename for beta reading and shrimpji chat for erm, "quality checking" ;)</p>
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